Author Archives: Eugie Foster

1000 words on the Dark Fantasy story with the aid of a little caffeine. Zero draft completed; fork poised. Going to have Matthew first-reader it and then up to Critters it goes. I’m not terribly excited about this one. I wrote it just to get the words from log jamming in my head and I think it shows. I’d contemplate not subbing this one to markets, but I just can’t tell which stories of mine will appeal to an editor. My favorite pieces are still making the rounds, and stories that I thought were just fun ditties are selling to pro-markets on their first jaunt out. I just can’t figure the vagaries of the publishing industry.

Used my spare MPC to bump my “squicky” story up the Critters queue. It should be going up tomorrow.

Completed the re-write on my “weird” story. Out into the world it goes. It’s still weird, but I took out some of the references that puzzled people the most and toned down the early surreal elements. Chopped about three hundred words from the final count. The end’s still exceptionally surreal, but I like it. I do, however, think that I’ll put a little distance between me and Kurt Vonnegut Jr. for a while.

Been reading The Vintage Bradbury, a collection of some of Ray Bradbury’s best earlier works. It’s both uplifting and depressing. On the one hand, his writing is beautiful, poetic, and evocative without being a downer like a lot of Harlan Ellison’s work is (which is also beautiful, poetic, and evocative, just in an angry-bloody sort of way). But on the other hand, I’m feeling a whole heap of despair on the “I’m not worthy” front. Will I ever be able to write even a fraction as well as Bradbury? It’s dispiriting is what it is. I keep telling myself that the man worked at his writing, worked hard at it. Still does. But then I read “Dandelion Wine” or “The Wonderful Ice Cream Suit” and I just can’t believe that I’ll ever be even close to having his mastery of prose.

And I’m bummed that Bradbury can’t make Dragon*Con. I’m glad that I got to see him those several years ago at our first Dragon*Con, but I was really looking forward to having the opportunity to meet him this year.

Sigh.

Trying to catch up on my Friends List. Salient word is trying.

Yesterday was the last Dragon*Con meeting (director’s only) before the convention. I can’t believe it’s only two weeks before D-Day. Yikes. So much to do; so little time.

The convention fed us again. Gotta love the free meal thing.

On the writing front:

No new word countage this weekend but I’ve started on the re-write of my “weird” story.

Also, an idea for a character popped into my head that I’d like to write about. No story, no setting, no background, just a character. That hasn’t happened to me before. My characters tend to grow organically from the story I put them in. Now I find myself dwelling on the best situation to drop this character-concept into and it’s a strange process.

I’m not left-handed but Matthew is. I’m going to bake some cookies in observance of the holiday.

Writing Stats:

26 crits on Critters for my “weird” story. Need to dwell on the various comments for a day or so and then start on the rewrite. I’m not sure yet if I want to do a major overhaul on this tale, or just do some tweaks. Got comments across the board from “loved it” to “didn’t work for me.”

The countdown to Horrorfind Weekend continues. The Quiet Ward debuted at number 8 on the Shocklines.com Advance Order Bestseller list. Neat.

In less good news, an anthology market that had short-listed one of my stories was cancelled. Details are sketchy, but it sounds like the two co-editors had a falling out and scrapped the project. Dagnabit. Out it goes again, although I really thought this anthology was a good fit. Another tongue-in-cheek writing “milestone” is when a writer “kills” a market. Wonder if this counts as my kill?

Made some progress on the new Dark Fantasy story, about 1000 words. I’m still flogging myself for even writing the damn thing since if I finish this story it’ll be the third incarnation of this theme I’ve written. But the words keep coming, so I keep typing. Stupid muse.

Actually, Matthew and I were talking last night and discussing art and the revisiting of themes. I feel a little better rehashing old territory knowing that some of the great painting masters did the same thing with their work.

And hey, Roger Zelazny wrote the same novel over and over again, so why can’t I?

Taking a pause from writing “thank you” notes to all the Critters who’ve taken a stab at my current queue offering . . .

Saw American Wedding yesterday. Okay, I’m really not a fan of slapstick or scatological humor. I turned off Something About Mary and for the most part, Jim Carrey makes me roll my eyes and change channels. But I really like all of the American Pie movies, even this most recent incarnation which focused on one of my least favorite characters (Stifler). Somehow, the writers manage to walk the edge without crossing into “seriously not funny.” Laughed right out loud many times in the theater, although I also spent the time in a nearly perpetual state of cringing–much like how I felt watching AP I and II, actually. There was one scene which did push into “more gross than funny” but one bad scene in three movies is pretty good. And, of course, Alyson Hannigan is quite the hottie.

Turner Classic Movies is doing marathons of various famous actor-types this weekend. Yesterday was Cary Grant. I adore Cary Grant, so we spent a lot of yesterday parked in front of the television. Matthew made his delicious Eggplant Parmesan and we saw in quick succession: I Was a Male War Bride, Notorious, Father Goose, and Operation Petticoat. Fell asleep during Arsenic and Old Lace but that’s okay. We have it on DVD. Today is Jack Lemmon. It’s a good passive entertainment sort of weekend.

Actually, Thursday was Lughnasadh, but we postponed our celebration of it until yesterday. I made beer bread and cookies, and we gorged in front of the TV and watched American Pie I and II. Sort of a strange way to celebrate the Autumnal Cross Quarter, but hey, we enjoyed it. And now we’re raring to see American Wedding.

Got The Quiet Ward contract for “The Reign of the Wintergod” in the mail yesterday from Prime Books. It was just a single copy of the contract with no letter or note in it. I assume I’m supposed to sign it and send it back, but I’m more accustomed to seeing a brief letter from the person I’m supposed to address to the “attn of” on the return envelope, as well as receiving two copies of the contract, one of which I get to keep for my own records. No biggie. I’ll just make a copy of it before I mail it. But it was a little, err, brief. I assume they were rushed since everyone’s scrambling to get the book out in time for Horrorfind weekend.

Wow. In one week there will be a book in print with one of my stories in it. How cool is that?

Less cool is the whole “make a copy situation,” primarily because my scanner won’t talk to the computer anymore. I’ll just use a third party copier for the contract, but this whole scanner broken thing is really stressing me out. I hate dealing with hardware. I am totally incapable of interacting in a calm and rationale manner with malfunctioning peripherals. They scare and intimidate me. I’m leaving it to Matthew to fix.

In other news, ten critiques so far on the “weird” story I’ve got up at Critters right now. The comments are mixed. Most people like it but think there are weird bits. Well, I knew it was odd going in, but I’m pleased that people in general are liking it. Readers have given me positive comments on the style and tone I used, which is cool as it was something of a Vonnegut-inspired experiment.

Matthew finally first-readered my “squicky” story and it did indeed totally squick him out. He refused to read it through a second time so gave me my critique verbally rather than in writing. Gleep. I’m much better with critiques in writing. But the funny thing is that despite his gross-out, he still thought it was a good, powerful story. He just doesn’t want to ever read it again.

Yay, I think.

He also had some excellent comments (as usual) which I’m dwelling on before I toss up the first draft for the Critters to savage.

Feeling a bit moody. Think it’s Post I-Made-a-Sale Blues. All that adrenalin and excitement hits hard and happy, but when it seeps away, it leaves me feeling sort of disjointed and morose. Had a half a cup of coffee again today to try to dispel it. It didn’t really work, but it gave me a little energy.

Having a hard time staying focused on things I should be doing at work and at home but just don’t feel like. I’m prone to procrastinating in general and now I’ve got the procrastination bug bad. Fortunately, most things I put off do tend to get done before it gets scary, and the things that get dropped by the wayside tend not to be that important in the first place. But the very act of procrastinating also makes me twitchy.

Blah. So I’m either doing something I don’t particularly want to and feeling dissatisfied about it, or I’m antsy because I’m not doing something I don’t want to do but really ought to be. Damnit. It’s that exact feeling that burned me out in graduate school and why I turned away from continuing on with my Ph.D plans so easily. I hate the sensation that there’s something always hovering over me that I should be doing all the time–weekends, evenings, and holidays–like reading that next textbook chapter, writing that paper, or studying for that exam. Even though I usually found the subject matter fascinating, there’s only so much “whoopee!” I can get about studying for a test.

In the end, I retired from academia and joined the work-a-day crowd. I found it to be such a relief to be able to come home after a day’s work and not feel like I have to be doing anything.

‘Course that resulted in planting myself in front of the television and vegging my evenings away, but after a while of that I got restless and fidgety so started writing seriously. Now I get that restless sensation when I feel like I ought to be writing.

Stupid brain. I think it’s just plain wired bad.

Cover art for The Asylum Volume 3: The Quiet Ward is up!

I always get a thrill to see the artwork . . .

Took a Clonazepam last night to deal with the shooting pains in my arms. Results of drugging:

1. A certain wooziness for most of the morning.
2. Less pain.
3. Weird dreams that I don’t remember.

I sleep the sleep of the soporifically drugged on this med, which is sort of the point, I guess. Matthew frequently comments that I don’t move very often when I’m in this sleep state, and occasionally I talk.

Now I’ve talked in my sleep since I was little, on and off. It’s been a source of amusement for various people who’ve been in my vicinity when I’ve been asleep and who’ve listened to me babble about my strange, apparently psychedelic dreams. They inform me I even have conversations with them where I give every indication of being wide-awake, with my eyes open and everything. The only difference between holding a conversation with an awake me and a sleep talking me is that my responses are often a bit odd, and I have a tendency of closing my eyes and falling into a dead sleep mid-conversation. I, of course, never remember any of it.

Apparently, last night, I opened my eyes, pointed at something ceiling-ward, giggled and said “oh, my” several times. When Matthew came over and asked me what it was I was giggling at, I said, quite mischievously: “It’s best that you don’t know” and flopped back asleep. He was hoping that I’d be able to enlighten him in the morning what I’d been hallucinating, I mean dreaming. Unfortunately, I can’t remember.

What is my subconscious coming up with when my consciousness is doped goofy?

Did the final pass on the second Cricket rewrite and mailed it off.

Broke down and had a half a cup of coffee to stoke my muse. Made a little progress on some new word countage, maybe 900 words on a new Dark Fantasy story in the last couple days. Except I’m not sure it’s worth continuing on. I started writing it on a whim, just to be writing, and it’s on a theme and subject matter I’ve visited twice before. The first incarnation sold and the second is making rounds. But there’s only so much I can say on the topic, really. I dunno. The other stories I’ve started aren’t really singing to me either. Guess I should just write whatever’s in my system to be written.

Still floating on clouds ’bout my recent sale to Paradox.

Dancing in the streets! I just sold “The Tiger Fortune Princess” to PARADOX Magazine!! “Tiger Fortune” is another fairy tale, a Chinese re-telling of Snow White. At this rate, I’m beginning to seriously think about compiling a collection of my fairy tales and seeing if I can’t get an agent to tout them around to publishing houses.

Dwell upon that later. For now: Another pro sale! Woo!

The editor gave me two publication options. “Tiger Fortune” can either be in the PDF issue that prints in January (#4), or I can wait until July or September of next year and be in a print one (#6 or #7). With this mag, they do three print issues and one PDF. Normally I much prefer print to any electronic medium, but September is a long time to wait. Plus I get paid on publication.

Hmm. Ponder ponder ponder.